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Drawing Forever

Inspiration struck him that day. A vision conveniently appeared in his mind and would not rest until given the proper application of time and concentration. Draco Malfoy did not enjoy being tormented by ideas forcing him in a direction in which he was perfectly content not travelling down. If someone were to find out...well that would be quite a mess. He really had to quit drawing her, it was not healthy. Unfortunately the more he told himself this, the more he couldn't bear to stop. She was his…undying passion…alright fine, obsession. He wouldn't admit it again, mind you.

He unearthed his sketch book from a false backed bookcase built into the wall, and stretched out on the ebony floor. There was something about his floor that made it easier for him to think. He supposed it was because he didn't feel so closed in down on the floorboards, or maybe it was that he didn't feel so…proper. He liked to think it might be some stifled inner rebellion showing through, as six-year-old childish as that was.

He flipped through numerous pages as quickly as possible. He tried not to see his pathetic qualities and had to diligently lie to himself about the amount of drawings in the book. Finally after an aggravating mass of pages were flipped, he landed on a blank one and began his slave's work. He was a slave to her.

His soft lead pencil began tracing the form of the woman he knew so well. The familiar lines gave him peace and a sense of purpose. He had brought his visions of her to life in this book so many times before that it was second nature to him now. It was disgraceful how much he enjoyed this task he'd preformed a hundred times before, as if he were an easily amused toddler chasing a toy snitch that was designed to be caught. All of these negative thoughts were soon put behind him as he continued his work.

His pencil strokes lined the small frame that was her, curved the perfect curves that were her; slightly squared hips and the half moon cleavage peeking out from under her dressings that made her woman. A smirk played on his lips when he thought of how she would argue that it was not appearance that made the woman. He politely had to disagree. Draco dressed her as he saw her in his mind, wearing a Grecian garment with sweeping folds and dramatic gatherings.

Next he focused on her face, drawing as close as possible to what it was in reality, for what could be more beautiful? He halted momentarily to process what was done. He had to admire his skill, her lips were peony blossoms making her delicate and evoking the irresistible urge to protect such a creature, but there was something in the eyes that ceased such a reaction; a fire was there showing her strength, independence and what he longed for; desire. They stared out fiercely from the page right into his own eyes that were sadly lacking such emotion. Draco had found long ago that he was frozen to feelings, that after years of honor and dignity thrust upon him, he could only numbly register them. Maybe, he pondered, that's what drew him to her, the fact that she had enough intensity for the both of them.

Quietly, he resumed his craft; creating quill tip tendrils that one might find on a porcelain doll. He left the voluminous mane as it was, natural, untouched, and just slightly unkempt; simple. It was amazing to Draco really, how lovely all of her was, how gracefully mild she was in one facet and then alarmingly heated in the next. He was, to put it plainly, awed by her. He finished her creamy white arms and slim hands, trying his best to infuse the vast detail in which he remembered them and was done with her. He stared at his woman for a moment or two, amazed at her beauty even in a sketch. She was the image of a goddess, no, an angel. Draco's lips curved in a just-barely-there smile to himself as he thought of how true that was. He picked up the pencil once more and drew the peaks of wings behind her and decided that a halo was not needed; anyone should be able to tell what she was just by a glance.

Then it was time to fill in the setting. He found himself outlining the gothic nature of the manor behind the angel, everything dark except for the third window on the side of the great mansion that one could barely see in the picture; it had a light illuminating from it. Sighing, Draco began filling in the grounds beneath the floating angel to show the far distance between her and the house. She was leaving, he realized. Lastly, he shaded a small shadow beneath her and wrote at the very bottom Hermione as he had on every other page.

Draco closed the book, it appeared as a massive tome that his father would approve of him reading, no doubt filled with dark spells. He stood feeling the stiff testament of how long he'd been lying on his floor, unmoving with the exception of his arms. He missed breakfast, lunch and dinner, so immersed in his work as he was. He hadn't even felt the hunger pains that were raging through him now. He put the book back behind the bookcase and closed it just in time to hear someone opening his door as silently as only his father could. Quickly he picked a random book off a shelf; his father had assigned them all to his reading.

"Son, you've made yourself rather scarce. You know how it bothers your mother for her not to see you at least once a day." Lucius Malfoy remained in the doorway, a rich cane at his side.

"I've just been catching up on my reading. It's truly fascinating." His father extended his hand for the book which Draco was holding. Obediently he handed it to his father who moved farther into the room. A poised hand pulled out a pair of reading glasses from inside his cloak and read the title page.

"Yes, this one is quite interesting. One who can master the philosophy contained here, has power beyond measure. Wealth and status are only things of influence. Knowledge, however, can control. Remember that Draco, and go see your mother so she will finally quiet herself." Draco nodded and left the room, his palms becoming moist when his father didn't follow, but he couldn't go back else he seem suspicious.

OOOOOO

Thirty minutes later Draco left the parlor in which his mother was lounging prettily in. He'd obediently listened to her fuss over minute details of her day and the length of his hair. He was now nearly having a panic attack, in a mad rush to get back to his room and be sure that his father had good and well left. Normally he was secure in the knowledge that his false-backed bookcase concealed all that needed concealing, but this was his father's house and his father felt more than comfortable snooping around. It would be just like Lucius to find the most discreet of hiding places.

Draco turned left and then saw his door, the third on the right, open. A cold chill snaked its way down his spine; his father always left the door open to beckon him in. The last few steps were ominous, he couldn't quite see into the room, but the night moon allowed for a shadow to alert Draco to his father's presence inside. "Come in, Son." Lucius' aristocratic voice sounded more than slightly perturbed. He stepped into his room as if he were walking into a snake pit.

"Father" Draco responded curtly trying to will his voice to sound stern. However, he lost his nerve after he saw the bookcase hanging ajar and his father sitting primly on the straight-backed chair, his son's sketchbook lying open on his lap. Lucius sighed pulling off his reading glasses and looking him straight in the eye.

"How did this happen?" His father asked as if that question made all the sense in the world. "How were you led astray by this trash, Draco?" The man sitting before him rephrased the question at his silence.

"I…I am not sure. I…" Draco had never been one to stutter or be unsure of himself, it was not in his nature, not in his breeding, but this situation mortified him more than standing before the weak form of the Dark Lord for the first time in fourth year. The older man waved his hand in the air to gesture Draco to silence.

"It is unimportant. It is also natural for a man to be intrigued and wish for what he cannot possess, though this is no excuse for your behavior. We are called to ignore such temptations, and when that cannot be done, it is our duty to do away with them. Do away with yours, Draco." With that his father stood and dropped the book roughly to the floor very near the flames dancing merrily unaware in the grate. Draco didn't move until long after his father had left and the sounds of his footsteps faded. Lucius' words kept repeating themselves in his mind, reminding him of the expectations. He was destined to become a monster on his upcoming birthday. He was chosen to receive power after the Dark Lord as the sorcerer's stone was destroyed. He was to be a murderer and a powerful figure in society simultaneously. And lastly, he was to marry a strictly pureblooded witch with good family behind her. It was plain to see that the cards were stacked against his love.

Draco took a seat on his floorboards, leaning against his grand bed. He sat there and thought for a solid two hours. He thought of his mistakes; the women he'd had, the pain he'd caused, the admiration for his father, and most of all the love for Hermione. It was ironic to him that his greatest mistake was what caused his greatest happiness.

Draco stood with the book and grabbed his black cloak harshly. He knew what he had to do and had to leave before the nerve left him. He stalked down the stairs, doing his best to appear determined and blood thirsty for his father who nodded almost encouragingly from the sitting room. As soon as he was out of sight Draco stopped and gagged into a vase, he was thankful that he hadn't eaten anything. He moved on still queasy and high strung.

OOOOOO

Paranoia was his only company on the long broom ride into the muggle world. Draco had never been here before, ever, in fact he'd forbade himself of it. At this thought he nearly laughed out loud; he'd forbade himself of Hermione as well and look how that turned out. If he was honest with himself, which he rarely was these days, he had and still would break every rule, guideline, or wish he once upheld himself by for her. It was nearly comical how far he'd be willing to go for his mudblood. Draco was truly confused when he tried to figure out at what point he'd begun falling down the slippery slope of temptation, lust, and love.

He fancied it on the evening that they stumbled together on the dark stairs of the astronomy tower when they were not yet friendly but not caustic toward each other. Draco had completed his star chart earlier but continued to appear like he was drawing and labeling so they could carry on their conversation. It had begun awkwardly, but soon flowed easily for the both of them, speaking of politics, and foreign affairs. He had never found a woman who shared his common interests with world happenings. Most of them just cared about the goings-on within a five mile radius of Hogsmede.

It wasn't until two weeks later that they spoke again, when they were assigned a transfiguration project together that involved out of class research. They met in the library after dinner and worked. Somewhere along the line the conversation drifted off onto favorite titles and best reads. Draco left the library with seven of her favorite books three hours passed. They handed their project in two days later and four days after that she approached him to inquire about the books. "Did you enjoy them?" She asked looking hopeful. He had to admit that he hadn't had the time to finish all of them, as he wasn't such an avid reader as she, but from the three he'd read he felt that they shared the same taste in literature. Hermione had positively beamed when he'd said that. After that they'd met in the library quite by "coincidence" many times until it became habit for both of them.

A month after their first meeting in the library, he kissed her. It was done on impulse, something she'd done, some gesture or movement had triggered it, and it shocked him when he realized what he was doing. It shocked him even more when he liked it and the most when she kissed him back. That was their first kiss, and like all first kisses it was over much too soon. Draco would never forget how she looked that night; she was rosy cheeked as if she were barely feverish, and for some reason the words that first came to his mind were orphic and cashmere.

They didn't go through that stiff phase that he'd heard people went through when crossing the line of friendship. He supposed they just had too much to talk about to waste time testing the boundaries…and maybe too much snogging to do as well. Soon the winter holidays were upon them. It was then that he did the most imbecilic thing possible; he tried to break himself away from Hermione. He was only doing it for her protection, he was, and it was nearly impossible for him to look her in the face and see not only the pain but the pure disappointment in him reflected there. He couldn't bring himself to explain, and fled the room leaving her standing alone in their library corner. He was incredibly stupid to think that he could actually go about his life without her. This was the first time he drew her in the book, longing for the image to come to life. He lasted a whopping two days convincing himself it was the right thing and then he owled her explaining himself and begging for forgiveness. It was a sheer miracle that she forgave him and was understanding enough not to owl him often over the holidays even though she and he both desperately wanted to.

When everyone arrived back at school for the restarting of term, the first thing he did was go to the library, and there she was waiting in a chair looking quite fidgety. Once she set eyes on him she bounded up and embraced him like he'd been gone for a year. "I love you." She whispered into his chest softly, but not so soft that he couldn't hear it clearly. He knew she meant it to. There was a surprising sensation in his chest, it was new to him. Draco had never heard those words in that way before. There was a difference when she said them, and when some random girl he wanted only in bed said them. He figured it out quickly though, it was that he wanted very much for her to really truly love him. So he found himself, in a strangely out of body way, saying them back to her and feeling the knots in his stomach loosen and fall away.

He and Hermione lasted the rest of the year meeting in secret and they were never caught, not that they didn't come close on a couple of occasions. Both of them understood the danger of being found out. It wasn't until this very night that anyone had any inkling about them, and that one person who knew just had to be his father, Lucius Malfoy, murder and hater of mudbloods extraordinaire.

The topic of families was a surprisingly common one between him and Hermione; she couldn't fathom how people who shared the very blood running in their veins with him could be so distant and he was amazed at how close knit her family was even though she spent most of the time away from them. Draco grew to know quite a lot about the Grangers, and even though he'd never met them, he began to like them. They took good care of his Hermione, he would say and she would blush and roll her eyes replying that it was he who took good care of their Hermione. He knew that both of her parents had this job that involved reaching into other people's mouths and examining their teeth, they were called dentists. He'd never had a dentist, just a spell preformed on him when his first tooth came in. He also knew that the job paid pretty well, and he believed that it damn well should, so they had a moderately big house. "Not big compared to what you live in Mr. Malfoy Manor, but sizeable to the rest of us," he could tell she felt odd saying it. She described it as white with four pillars on the front porch and five windows facing the street with green-grey shutters around them. Her room, she told him, was the first one on the right side of the house, second story, over her favorite part of the garden. That conversation was nothing but casual talk to them then, but tonight it became crucial knowledge.

He was caught off guard when he actually saw the house Hermione had described. There was an eerie feeling settling in his gut; the feeling that time had caught up with him much too quickly. Draco descended as slowly as humanly possible. In all honesty, he did not want to see his angel tonight; not under these circumstances. He was not slow enough, for he reached her window in what felt like a matter of seconds. His hand seemed to extend on its own accord, though it was shaking desperately, and tapped on her window four times just to make sure she would hear it even if woken from a dead sleep. He actually whispered a prayer in that second that she wouldn't be home, he knew she was though. Hermione had never been popular with the muggles her age and the Grangers had already returned from their summer vacation in Venice. He watched with bated breath as a porcelain hand drew back the curtains and her glorious face looked out upon him. Even in the darkest of events, he felt his stomach flip when her eyes found him, and he couldn't help but think of how lovely she was. Hermione had surprise written all over her features and it was a time before she recovered and opened the window to help pull him in. He was hardly both feet inside her room before she kissed him deeply; expressing her loneliness these last months.

"I missed you." She said on his lips as if it weren't obvious.

"I missed you too." He replied trying to mask his inner turmoil. She had no idea just how painful she was making this for him. Hell, she didn't even know why he was here. They broke away and went back multiple times, not speaking just loving, becoming reacquainted with each other after too many moments apart. After he lost count of the kisses they bestowed on one another, he rested his forehead on hers and couldn't look away. They stood just like that for awhile; in a comfortable silence only lovers can share. "Why are you here, Draco? Not that I don't love it, but doesn't it put you in danger of being found out?" He couldn't love her more than he did now. Bloody hell, he felt like his heart was swollen to the point of bursting for this woman. She always put him before herself when she deserved to be thought of first, be waited on and cared for what she wanted, not him. He should be the one worrying for her parents; instead she concerned herself with his safety. Never once did she mention that her life was on the line as well.

"I love you." He paused when she got on her tiptoes to kiss him tenderly still warm from sleep. "No, we won't be found out. Lucius and Narcissa went to bed already and they won't be up until noon tomorrow at the earliest." Well he didn't lie; he just didn't say that they wouldn't be found out because they already were. All Draco wanted was one last worry free night with her. Perhaps he was being selfish, he was after all a conceited man, but he couldn't let her try to talk him out of it. He would sway too easily when dealing with her. She was a danger to his health really. Hermione sighed happily and pulled herself even closer to Draco, burying her face in his chest and breathing deeply.

"Will you stay with me then?" She asked trying to gain as much contact with him as possible, pressing her body against him; standing so close that a sheet of tissue paper wouldn't fall between them. He felt the fire building up inside him, roaring to release itself. He was burning for her; it was as simple and, patronizingly at the same time, as complicated as that.

One more night, one more…He pleaded with himself. Did she realize what she did to him? How badly he needed and wanted her simultaneously and how she tore his sense and his desire apart, both sides yearning for her and then there was the smallest fragment holding him back. Did she realize how impossible she was to resist? How each time the decision became fractionally easier until there was no thought at all; until she'd consumed him wholly? Did she no she that he was making it harder on himself to be with his obsession? Did she know that this kind of love hurt him beautifully? It was the one time he'd suffered and been damn happy to do so.

"Yes." Then his lips met hers in a blazing heat and searing passion and he made his love known to her.

OOOOOO

"Hermione," He whispered lightly in her ear "don't sleep, my love." She whimpered softly in protest but turned to face him and grasped his hand in hers to let him know she wouldn't. He lifted her hand and brushed his lips over the flesh resulting in Hermione's eyes opening.

"I'm yours, you know." She stifled a yawn and tried to ignore her heavy eyelids. "I don't think I could ever be anybody else's." Draco froze for a moment, dumbstruck and completely thrown at her words. He was horrified and furious at himself. Hadn't this been what he'd worked to avoid? Hadn't he told himself before he left the manor that this would not happen, that it would be for the best if he just left her the book and was gone? He did not let show his thoughts to her though, he just kissed her once again.

"I have something for you." Hermione looked at him quizzically, but let go of his hand all the same. Draco stood, not bothering to hide in modesty and went to his discarded cloak and pulled the sketchbook out from one of the larger inside pockets, and handed it to her. The brown honey eyes lit up at seeing a book and he couldn't secrete a chuckle. Eager hands flipped the cover and a gasp escaped blush colored lips. He climbed back into the bed and wrapped an arm around his darling's bare shoulders as she studied the pictures intensely.

"These are amazing;" She exclaimed in wonderment "beautiful".

"As are you," He kissed her cheek and held her in pure bliss. As she turned the many pages he let himself dream for a little while, that they were in their marriage bed and all was perfect.

"I want to be yours forever." Hermione whispered quietly in an airy voice. He examined her eyes and saw them glassy, a tear rolling down her full cheek. Draco automatically dabbed it away with his thumb.

"Don't cry, dear. You will be mine forever." He assured her while caressing her face. I just won't be yours forever. Another yawn emitted from Hermione. "Rest now, I shouldn't have kept you up."

"I'm glad you did." Were her last words before dropping off into dreams of no doubt beautiful places. Draco, however, could not do the same. His mind was reeling with thoughts and his heart wracked with feelings so intense he couldn't distinguish them from physical sensations and emotions. He cursed his father to hell and back, the one thing he ever truly wants, he has taken away from him because of blood. It's not even a proven fact that those without pure wizarding blood are any less capable. In fact there is sufficient evidence that the opposite is true, but his father was too dense to see it. Draco's own blood began to boil in anger and his fist clenched, if it weren't for his father he wouldn't be doing this tonight, he and Hermione wouldn't be a secret, he would've never watched her cry over keeping things from her friends, he would marry her for Christ's sake! It was infuriating to him that one man could stand in the way of all that.

He felt Hermione shift next to him and snore lightly for a minute. He observed her intently, watching her chest rise and fall. He couldn't believe he was in love with her; a year ago he would've laughed and hexed someone who told him he would want a mudblood above everything else. Now he couldn't imagine a life without her…forever.

Another idea struck him, one forcing him in a direction he didn't want to go, but it would not rest. She said herself…you have to give it a chance at least. When did his own heart start going against him? This was not yet another drawing; this was life, not something to toy around with. Forever… He reached over quickly, not waking Hermione and held the book in his hands hesitating. It would hurt her for you to leave, and it would hurt her for you to stay so do neither, just hide. The cover opened; he must be a mad man.

Dawn arrived and Draco watched the sunrise. He got little to no sleep last night. It was filled with tossing and turning and sick thoughts and even a nightmare. At the most he got maybe two hours. He debated countless times whether he should tell Hermione or not, and then debated on whether or not to erase the letter in the back. Now Draco just had to give up what happens will happen he decided and let himself sink into the covers and close his eyes. This was of course no use, he was nervous. He was leaving Hermione today, and he wouldn't be coming back. He turned trying to find a more comfortable position, and he turned again trying to blank his mind as well. He then returned to laying flat on his back and staring at the ceiling.

"Draco, stop moving." Hermione ordered sleepily. He smiled; even in the morning-after she was bossy. Draco spooned around her body and stroked her hair.

"Be with me, love."

"I am with you." She responded somewhat grumpily.

"Wake up, Hermione. Please." He kissed her scalp and listened to her sigh of annoyance. He smirked knowing that she wasn't all that aggravated; she always liked being woken by sweet words in her ear. She did open her eyes groggily and even smiled.

"I'm a bit sore." She admitted rolling over to face him. Draco could see the brownish bruises on the tops of her breasts.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you badly?" He asked concerned. It had been a long time for him to go without.

"No, it's a good sore. I feel wonderful." Draco was greatly pleased that he could do that for her one last time. He quieted his dooming thoughts as she kissed him happily.

"I need to leave." He informed her with regret and reluctance in his voice. She pulled his arms tighter around her when he said this.

"Your parents won't be up until noon though." She very nearly whined and nuzzled her face in the crevice of his shoulder.

"I know, but what of your parents?" He nipped her ear and breathed her scent in. The smell of her shampoo really could do him in.

"They've left for work. They don't come in to say goodbye, I'd prefer to sleep. So stay."

"I'm sorry, I wish I could stay the entire day and more, but I've got business to attend to." He felt her lips travel up his neck; she was so unfair to him sometimes.

"What business?" She hovered over his lips trying to pry it out of him.

"You'll know soon enough." He answered embracing her and closing the gap between them. After a good while, he began to untangle himself from the sheets and she sighed once more obviously put out. He felt her watching him as he dressed. He stepped over to her side of the bed and crouched down to her eye level.

"I'm sorry I have to go, but know that I will wish I am here with you and that I love you…forever. Remember that forever bit, okay?" Confusion flickered on her face but she nodded and said goodbye not knowing that this would be the last time she could watch him fly away.

Draco felt sick. His heart was hurting him physically even though he knew there was nothing wrong with him…other than the fact that he was leaving his love and the life he knew and being forced to do so by a man he once admired. Aching pain was radiating from inside him and he wanted hurl. All he could think about the rest of the way back was eternity and how bleak it appeared. What if he never saw her again? It was a very real possibility. What if she couldn't figure it out? What if she never wanted to? Forever…

Two hours of his own thoughts haunting him later, he arrived at the manor again, exhausted but unable to sleep. He was beyond nervous, he was scared, terrified even. He landed on the front walk and quickly dry heaved behind the imported Japanese flowers. All he wanted to do was break down and actually cry for the first time in over eight years. He honestly hadn't known if he still had tears but he felt them now. The worst part of it all was knowing that he was going to hurt Hermione the most. Once he pulled himself together, Draco held his head high and made sure to have a triumphant stride even though he was dying in agony. His father was looking quite comfortable at the dining table with his paper in hand. He paused in his reading to give a smirk and a nod gesturing to another plate at the other end of the table. Draco shook his head; his appetite was most definitely gone completely.

Instead he moved up the stairs swiftly and disappeared inside his room. Not hesitating for fear of stopping himself entirely. Draco pulled the book he wanted without even looking and flew out his window to the back grounds. It was when he landed next to the statue of an angel did he finally feel tears escape. He took a moment to relish the feeling of actual emotions he couldn't remember experiencing, but then when the thought of their cause hit, he couldn't despise them more.

He inserted the note inside the book and tapped the cover with his wand casting a barrier spell to keep the pages protected and he wedged it under the angel's feet. Then he turned his wand on himself and whispered words. The last thing he saw was a silver orb of light speeding toward him.

OOOOOO

Dear Mr. Draco Malfoy,

You have here by been expelled from Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry for the use of underage magic on multiple accounts while away from school grounds. Your disciplinary hearing will be scheduled and you will receive notice promptly.

Lucius Malfoy was not happy with his son; not happy at all. How could he be so stupid as to use magic to kill the mudblood? He roughly stood from his chair and went directly to Draco's room to inform him of the importance of common sense! The bloody idiot deserves a good deal more than what he is going to receive. Lucius raised his cane and rapped on the door to show his frustration. The lacking of an answer served to stoke the fire. He threw the door open to find the room unoccupied. This angered him greatly, especially when he saw the open window and absence of a broom. Something felt off to Lucius, very odd indeed. He'd give Draco until midnight.

Needless to say Draco did not return. Lucius began to worry about the status of his family, without a son the name would be lost. This would not serve. Well if he wished to run, Lucius would catch him. The rules of the house were perfectly clear, and disappearing without a word past midnight was most definitely breaking them. He calmly took out a quill and parchment…soon the whole ministry would be searching. Draco was worth more than ten million galleons.

The next morning the headlines went a little something like this:

Malfoy Heir Missing

Draco Malfoy Reported Missing

Draco's Disappearing Act!

OOOOOO

Hermione could think of nothing else but Draco. She was daydreaming constantly, visiting her grandparents, at Sunday brunch, everywhere. There wasn't a thought running through her head that didn't have something to do with him. And on the rare occasion that there was one, she wondered what he would think about it. So it was not surprising that she believed she was hallucinating when she read the headline of the morning paper delivered while she was sipping her orange juice. Instantly the juice in her mouth turned to ash and her stomach grew tight and cold. She closed her eyes and counted ten seconds out then reopened them to find the headlines unchanged and she immediately fainted.

Hermione was out cold for half an hour before she recovered. Her head hurt to say the least and when she thought of the headlines she wanted to faint again. But if there was one thing she learned being friends with Harry, it was to not believe everything you read. Trying to comfort herself with the fact that it may not be true, she owled Ginny whose reply returned confirming the article. She wanted to be sick. Instead she wept in the privacy of her room. Once she ran out of tears to cry she consulted her best friend, logic, on what to do and made a list of possibilities.

-Kidnapped

-Lost

-Inebriated

-Ran away

-Dead

Draco was no easy wizard to kidnap; he was very skilled in magic and terribly big to be overtaken by force. Who would kidnap him anyway? He could easily find his way if lost, he was after all on a broom with a birds eye view, a location charm could be used as well. As much as she hated that this was true, Draco does drink, though he controls himself. But it is possible for him to have gotten drunk and wandered off somewhere. He said he had business to attend to though, and who would serve minors? Him running away seemed the most likely, but why wouldn't he tell her, or owl her now that he could? He did say that she'd find out what his business was soon enough…he planned this, maybe? Draco possibly being dead made her whole body go numb. Who could be so cruel as to kill him? Was it possible he'd killed himself? She shook those thoughts away. Draco's body would have been found with a tracking spell…and Draco was not suicidal. Unless, his father…no. She refused to think of that.

Hermione's heart felt lonelier than it ever had before. She expected to be away from him during break, but she had always been secure in the knowledge that he was well and could take care of himself. She'd never been so at a loss of information concerning him and it was scary. Then panic clutched her, what if they had been found out? She didn't even want to think of what would happen if that were the case. Her throat restricted what if this was all because of her? Oh that'd be awful! She was apparently wrong…she did have more tears left. She needed Draco back; she needed to be close to him now. She reached for his sketchbook on the night stand and held it to her as if it were life itself. Shaking she kissed the cover and whispered his name over and over again as if trying to summon him while sobbing bitterly.

Four hours, she cried for four hours lying on her bed with the sketchbook practically stuck to her until she finally managed to open it. Hermione greeted each image with tears until she'd reached the last, the thirty-seventh she counted and on the back of it in a nearly perfect cursive Draco had been groomed to write were the words:

Hermione,

I'm sorry I couldn't tell you what is happening. I couldn't ruin the perfection of our night together with something as dismal as what I'm about to tell you; and I'm once again incredibly sorry that I have to tell you anything bad at all. But I'm gone, as in not coming back. You see, my father found the book you're holding right now and ordered me to "do away with my temptations". It was impossible for me to refuse; else he'd do it himself. He believes you dead, and you will find that it is the safest thing for you. He will eventually hear of you, but by then you will be back safe and sound at Hogwarts and he can do nothing about it. I cannot go into detail about myself just incase. My father is a skilled in occlumency and on the off chance that he does hear of you before school begins this could be extremely dangerous. If he does hear of you, please do not stay with your parents in the muggle world, it would be far too easy for him to find and harm you if you alone can perform magic.

Now, I've made preparations (By now I'm sure I'm expelled from school for the use of underage magic) for you and you alone to find me if you still wish to. Please use your judgment on when to come to me, if you do. Now write this next part down.

You'll find your answers not in but out from evil hands

Eyes will not reach you in the farthest of lands

Away from the great castle and prison

Yet close to where darkness dwells

Use stealth, and precision

Because it lies where angelica stands

Please, your lips must never tell

Hermione quickly scribbled it down on the back of her Hogwarts letter and went back to double check she'd gotten everything, but found only the last three lines of the letter.

Remember to use your judgment on finding me; I don't know if it's possible to return.

Yours forever,

Draco

As soon as she finished reading those words, they too erased themselves leaving no trace. Gladness was replaced by gloom and honestly a bit of anger at him. Don't get her wrong, she was so grateful that Draco was alive, but she still couldn't have him and he was telling her to use her judgment on finding him because he didn't know if it was possible to return. She wondered what he meant by that, return home obviously but why not? Didn't he see that she was already constantly in danger? What's another deatheater? She could see why he couldn't return home, but her? Lucius Malfoy would be among the top suspects if she were to be murdered before the war anyway. Did he mean that it was somehow not physically possible? She couldn't be gone for the war…Harry needed her. So, just as Draco said, she'd have to wait…a long while it would seem. Her heart broke into a million pieces.

One Year Later

December 30th, the dark lord Voldemort fell, dying before Harry. Bravery was shown by everyone that night, friends and enemies died fighting and everything about that night was dreadful and haunting. It is a constant presence in nightmares and it is hardly spoken of. Pain and suffering are old friends of those living today; Hermione, Harry, and Ron especially. They realized during the war how precious life is and how fast it comes and goes, therefore they wished to get started living right away. Harry and Ginny were married two months after her seventeenth birthday; she attended her seventh year a married woman. Ron had proposed to Hermione a week after the wedding but she declined. There was only one man for her and she needed him now, she'd waited, pondered, cried, and been without long enough. So on March 7th she finally set out to be with her true love. She didn't want to sound appalling, but now that her friends had their lives mapped out and she played a recessive role in them, she figured now would be a good time to start her life too.

Hermione had never felt so jittery in all her life; it was like going on a first date but ten times more nerve-wracking. So many times she'd dreamed about this day, about feeling his arms around her once again, about once and for all feeling safe. She could hardly believe the day was here. Today she would be home. Hermione pulled out her worn Hogwarts letter and opened it for what must be the ten-thousandth time. This time it would be the last.

You'll find your answers not in but out from evil hands

Eyes will not reach you in the farthest of lands

Away from the great castle and prison

Yet close to where darkness dwells

Use stealth, and precision

Because it lies where angelica stands

Please, your lips must never tell

Away from the great castle and prison…She'd at first thought of Hogwarts, but that wasn't it, never had it been a prison to either of them. So it had to be the manor, it was quite the castle, literally and figuratively it was a prison as well. Hermione apparated to the Malfoy gates and went in without worrying. The old manor stood empty these days, there was not a prince to reign in it. You'll find you answers not in but out from evil hands… she was thankful that she obviously wouldn't have to go inside the manor, that place gave her chills just looking at it, and to think Draco had to spend his life in it. Eyes will not reach you in the farthest of lands…Hermione had thought this meant out of the country, somewhere across the globe, he did say "away from the great castle and prison", and "eyes will not reach you in the farthest of lands",after she thought about this she realized that he meant the farthest peice of property, but it might as well been in another country for the amount of land the Malfoys owned. She had to walk because she wasn't familiar at all with the location and it was a good half hour walk! And finally Because it lies where angelica stands…this had stumped her the most. Angelica was a name was it not? She wondered why it was not capitalized, and then figured Draco was in a rush and hadn't thought about punctuation, but that was not like him at all. She thought if he was talking about a dead person then how could they be standing, and then if he was referring to a live person how was that person supposed to remain somewhere? So logically it was not living, nor was it dead, nor was it a person. And then she saw it, the most magnificent statue of an angel, hand made one could tell, and vastly detailed. She didn't have time for admiring; she was far too eager to see Draco. Then her eyes saw it; the spine of a book poking out from beneath the angel. Hermione didn't even think of how dreadful the outside world was for books. She yanked it out with such a force that she almost sent the angel toppling over. There was a page marked and she nearly ripped the pages turning to it so quickly.

Meus Res

This spell is not widely known and highly uncommon in the world today, however it has gained a second name; the location of delusion. This spell is used when wizards and witches wish to leave the world without dying. They create an actual place in the unused space in time that is their own "universe". Not much is known about this aspect of the spell due to the fact that once a witch or wizard has gone, they never return. There is some speculation that it is not possible, but another theory suggests that those gone simply do not wish to come back

Meus Res is unique for requiring a witch/wizard to finish the incantation themselves with at least one more Latin word in order to distinguish to which "world" they are to go to if not making their own. It is encouraged that those creating choose words from the Latin language that would not be common to others to decrease the risk of meeting with another person escaping the place where they live. A fantasy in some romantics' mind is that popular characters Romeo and Juliet preformed this spell both saying the same words and ending up together.

To perform the spell hold your wand away from you and pronounce the word Meus (ME-us) Res (r-es) and then add in your chosen word(s). Silver-like light should appear.

Hermione couldn't wrap her mind around this. All this time she'd actually thought Draco was hiding somewhere in this world; that she'd be led to some sort of tunnel or portkey taking her somewhere remote and far away, but this was completely different universes they were talking about. There was a very real chance that she'd never see her friends ever again. She loved him, but everything she knew was here. What of her parents? What of her belongings? She picked up the envelope she'd pushed aside and looked around to get a good mental picture of where she was and the apparated away to make some changes to her will.

OOOOOO

"Hermione?" a smooth voice called, one she remembered all to well. Tears sprung to her eyes. He was here.

"I'm here." It was a strain on her to force the words out, she was speechless. He was here. She couldn't think that enough. After all this time, he was still here waiting. Before she knew it she was embraced so tightly that her breath could've been pushed out if she hadn't been experiencing the most passionate kiss of her life. She would never forget this moment; seeing him was better than seeing water when stranded in a desert. Kissing him was better than all the pleasures of the world. She was home. It wasn't possible for Hermione to contain herself any longer and she began to bawl into his chest holding him closer than ever before. She felt her heart might explode insider her with happiness, relief, and most of all love. "Never leave me again." She whispered with such meaning behind it that Draco kissed her all over again.

"Never," he agreed. "I'm yours forever."

"Our love is forever." She replied held in his arms.

"In aeternum," they both said together. In Aeternum was their world; forever.

OOOOOO

"Have you read yours yet?" Ron asked Harry from across the kitchen table. Harry nodded in silence. "Can you believe it?" He asked obviously not sure himself. Harry once again shook his head. He was too shocked for words. "She's gone you know." Ron didn't seem to mind that he was having a one-sided conversation.

"She's happy, Ron." interjected a new voice; Ginny's voice. "She loves him." Ron was silent this time and nodded still holding his copy of the letter from Hermione. "We'll all miss her, but she's happy and she wants us to live our lives. It says right here 'Be happy'. She's not dead."

"She might as well be." said Harry in a quiet voice. Ginny stood and walked to where Harry was seated and leaned down to kiss him.

"Love is not something we can ignore, dear." Harry held on to his wife's hand and lifted the corners of his mouth in an attempt to smile.

"I miss her already." He said to no one in particular, gazing at his letter laying flat on the table.

"Amen to that." Ron affirmed and removed his reading glasses. They were all teary and lost in the memory of a friend.

A/N: Well I hope you liked this. It's something a bit different from what I've done before and I hope I did alright. There are a few things I want to adress though.

1. In aeternum is Latin for forever and for those who were a bit confused those were the word added on to the Meus Res spell. Meus Res is also Latin for My Universe.

2. I don't know why but I can't see Draco being a crier after he is eight years old. I feel like it's quite unrealistic for someone not to cry for eight years, but I just couldn't picture it...

3. The "I'm yours" part that Hermione said actually came from a song called "I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz. I love that song though I'm not really sure it fits the tone of this fic.

4. And lastly PLEASE REVIEW!

-Likewise